Such a Disgrace
by TooMooseh
Summary: The legend of the Nords should be something pure and Nordic, but when the famous Dovahkiin is a half-breed of an Altmer and Khajiit many Nords are upset. This Dovahkiin becomes many things one shouldn't: an assassin and thief. Once Alduin is defeated, Ulfric has his eye on the assassin Dragonborn to join the Stormcloaks. He didn't intend on falling for him. Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB
1. Chapter 1

Such a Disgrace

Hello strangers! I know a half-breed is a kind of iffy subject in Skyrim, but I thought one being a child of such an odd pair would be great for Dovahkiin. This is Ulfric/Dragonborn if you couldn't tell, but that is much later down the road. I will admit this will take a while until fully finished, but I will not go through the whole game. I would assume you already know it. If you do not like the violence, language, sexual interactions, or some OOC moments then I would advise you to leave this right now. If you do enjoy it, then enjoy!

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><p>A hybrid is a disgrace; a half-breed is disgusting. Such creatures should be killed the moment they're born. Especially a child of a Thalmor wizard and a Khajiit thief, yet he was kept alive. His name is Kalara, an Altmer name to try and keep his Khajiit mother a secret. He was brought into Skyrim by his father once his mother was killed, and was raised as an outcast. Due to his blue cat eyes, claws, Khajiit tail, and abilities, the children raised in Solitude laughed and left him out. Little did they know Kalara would grow up to be an important man to Skyrim; he'd grow up to be known as the Dragonborn. He would save the world.<p>

The young half breed, around the age of ten, sat on the steps of his house in Solitude during the night of Middas. Kalara just enjoyed staring up at the stars most of the time since he was secluded away from the other children. It was late, too late for a child to be up, but he didn't care. This was the only time he freely move around the Khajiit tail the jutted out above his rear, so he liked to enjoy it. Being a half breed was difficult in Skyrim. He was teased, bullied, and left out by the other children. All he wanted was a friend, at least one. Kalara made friends with the man who sells horses, Geimund. His father does not approve of him making friends with the common rabble, but at least he has someone to keep him company while he's away in the Thalmor Embassy.

"You're still awake, son?" his approaching father spoke as Kalara drew doodles of horses in the dirt. He glanced up at his tall father and nodded slowly. His father had blond hair, like most Altmer do, while Kalara had black hair, which he gotten from his mother. With a sigh, the wizard knelt down in front of his son to study the busted lip he'd gotten from the children that morning.

"Still trying to make friends, huh? It'll be fine," his father mumbled while using his helping hand spell to heal up his son's busted lip. Kalara just looked back down at his doodles and let his tail fall limp of the stone stairs.

He began to speak in a quiet tone. "Dad, why does everyone hate me so much?" the boy muttered while picking at his pants while his father brushed his black hair back behind his elfin ear. "Why'd you have to have me with Mother?" The half breed looked up at his Altmer father, who wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders. His father was warm, but had a stoic look to his face to make him seem cold. Kalara always wished to have a normal family with a mother and a father that were both Altmer. No, he had to have a dead Khajiit mother who was a thief. It felt too empty in his life without a mother to hold him and cook for him. All they had was a silly housemaid that his father liked to fuck in the nights when they thought Kalara was asleep. Poor Kalara had to listen to the terrible noises they were making before he cried himself to sleep.

"Because I loved your mother. She was probably the most beautiful Khajiit I've ever seen," the wizard said while looking up at the night sky as if he could see his passed wife. He then looked down at his son who had his eyes closed, probably half asleep. With a soft sigh, the Altmer picked up the boy and carried him inside, passing the housemaid.

"Errande? Are we goi-"

"Dad, I want to sleep with you tonight," Kalara interrupted their housemaid with a soft voice, opening his blue eyes a little to peek at the fuming woman. Errande looked down at his son in his arms and chuckled with a nod.

"Yes, but just tonight, okay?" Kalara gave a happy nod before giving the Bosmer women a small smirk who just glared at him in response. Errande carried his son up the steps and sat him up on the large bed to start removing his Thalmor robe while the boy lay back on the straw bed. The High Elf glanced towards his hybrid son, who instantly passed out once he laid on the bed, and chuckled softly. He gently brushed his fingers through the boy's inky hair as he sat on the edge of the bed. Having a child like him was difficult. All of the bullying, the gossip, the injuries, and the death threats they had gotten really started to take a toll on his work. Sure, he loved his son, but it was hard. Sleeping it off would just have to be his choice, once again.

Throughout the night, Kalara would make pained whines while trying to curl up against his father for comfort. His father was not in bed anymore. The hybrid sat up slowly once he heard those disgusting noises once again. They were coming from his room.

He got up with an angry huff, and began to charge towards his bedroom door. What was going on in his room was something no child would want to happen on his bed. Kalara didn't want to see the activity, yet he wanted to give his father a piece of his mind. The noises grew louder and louder as he stood before the wooden door. His hand started to tremble before he placed it on the door knob and pushed it open. The sight he saw made him want to burst into tears.

There was his father, leaning over the whore and snapping his hips against her rear. Their skin slapped together to fill the room with even more disgusting noises. It was when Kalara was spotted that made time fall still. A scream filled the heavy air once the Bosmer woman's eyes met his. Errande stumbled away from the wood elf and stared at his sobbing son. "Kalara…I-," the Altmer stuttered before Kalara ran down the stairs and out the door.

He ran. He ran past the drunks who shouted vulgar things and the guards that gave no care about him. The hybrid ran out of the walls of Solitude and down the path. His bare feet pounded down the dirt road with his heavy breathing filling the silent night. Where he was running was the only place he felt welcomed at. That place was Solitude Stables.

It began to rain once he stood at the door to the house of the owners of the small farm and stable. He lifted his hand to pound on the wooden door. When the young woman answered the door, Kalara was drenched to the bone and shivering. "Oh, you poor child. Come in, Geimund is taking care of a few things for the stables," she said while pulling the child inside. The woman hurried up the stairs while a young man looked up from a few papers.

"Kalara? Are you alright?" Geimund asked while standing from his chair to wipe the boy's chubby, tear-stained cheeks. Kalara shook his head slowly while sniffling, the rain from his wet hair forming a puddle on the floor. By then the woman had come back with a shirt that belonged to her fiancé and fabric for him to dry off with.

"Put this on and dry off then you can tell us why you are here."

With a nod, Kalara began to undress before the couple and took the dry shirt to pull it on. The woman hung the soaked clothing by the fire as he rubbed his hair dry. "Come here, boy. Tell us why you are here this late," Geimund said while pulling the hybrid onto his lap. He began to stroke Kalara's damp hair while he rubbed his eyes dry.

"Father was with… with her again," Kalara mumbled while looking down at his own lap. The woman rolled her eyes in disgust before kneeling down before the two to take the young boy's hands in her own.

"You may stay with us for the night. I can sleep in a bed roll since I know how comfortable you are with Geimund," she said in a soft tone while rubbing his petit hands with her thumbs. Kalara gave a small nod while wiping a bit of water from his brow. With a smile and a nod, she stood and moved to find something for him to snack on real quick.

"Fridrika, are you sure you're okay with this?" asked the Nord male while brushing the knots from Kalara's inky-black hair. Fridrika brought some bread to the child on her fiancé's lap before give a quick nod. The fire began to die down to cast a few shadows throughout the room.

"Of course, Kalara is like our own child. He needs some love from two parents," she said in a hushed tone. Kalara was drifting to sleep against the man's chest due to the soft brushing of his hair. Geimund chuckled and lifted up the tired half-breed to carry him to the couple's bed. Fridrika stayed in the kitchen to clean up while Geimund laid the small boy down on the straw bed. He pulled the furs over his frail form before climbing in beside him. When he felt the bed shift and creak, Kalara shifted and curled up against the Nord man, who is more of a fatherly figure than his own father. Geimund tensed up, but soon relaxed once the boy was fast asleep. That half-breed was like his training for his toddler son, Horm. There was something special about Kalara though, but it was too cloudy to figure out at the moment. It wasn't really something he had to worry about then so he decided to just go to sleep.

Kalara had woken up sometime in the morning and left the Solitude Stables building. Going home was something he was dreading. He didn't want to face his father because he knew that he would be scolded, plus it would be something really awkward. With a heavy sigh, Kalara made a slow pace back up to the doors to the city before pushing them open slowly.

Each step he took seem to grow heavier and harder to lift. The Nords continued to glare and spit out the vulgar insults that were hard for him to ignore. A child his age would occasionally run up and tug on his tail, causing him to stumble and wince in pain. It was a hard life for a half-breed; even harder on a dreaded walk home to a wizard and a whore.

As he finally took each step to the door, arguing started to fill his sensitive ears. "It is not my fault, sir! You're the one who wants to fuck me." Kalara paused at the Bosmer's voice and bit his lip to quiet himself.

"It's hard when your wife is dead and wasn't accepted in this society!"

Those words made the boy tense and ceased the movement of his hand toward the door handle. His father had hardly ever talked about his mother. Her name was never spoken either. Kalara did not know his mother's name. Errande's voice broke his thoughts. "Tonight you shall sleep at the inn. I need time alone with Kalara… If he returns." With tears stinging his eyes, Kalara pushed open the door and forced himself into his father's long torso. He began to weep into his robes while chanting 'I'm sorry' over and over again. The High Elf gave a sigh of relief and lifted the small boy into his arms.

"Hush, child. You mustn't cry," he said in a hushed tone while shooing away the Bosmer woman. Nothing could really stop the boy's soft sobbing. It was that he felt like his father didn't love his mother and that he was just a bastard child. Being a bastard and a half-breed of races hated in Skyrim was the worst thing possible for a child like him. He was already picked on enough so he must know the truth.

"Father…" Kalara whispered in a shaky tone. "Tell me about you and Mother. Am I a bastard?" After he spoke, Kalara exposed his tear-stained, red face to his father. Errande just sighed and sat on the chair by the fire.

"I truly did love her. She was killed the day before we were leaving for the Temple of Mara to be wed." The Altmer gave a sad smile to his son while stroking his hair. "We lived just outside of Skyrim when you were born. I was scared, but she adored you. I am just happy she saw your smiling baby face before they took her away." Kalara listened to his father's voice crack and noticed the tears he held back. A wave of relief washed over him while he cupped the man's cheeks.

"Thank you, Father. Now, I must ask… May I have a sword?"

Errande laughed out softly.

"We'll see, son. We'll see."

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><p>Ooh man! Hope you enjoyed this first chapter. I wrote this a while back and finally finished it so it isn't my best work. I shall work my hardest to get this moving well and hopefully people will like Kalara. For these first two chapters it will be more of development of our Dovahkiin and chapter three is the start of the game on the cart.<p>

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! I am quite surprised that this has gotten much more attention than I thought It would. I'm glad you all like it! I feel like I've made the characters in Skyrim ooc so I apologize. Did I do a disclaimer in the first chapter? If not, here it is:

I do not own Skyrim. This is only a made up story and I do own Kalara and Errande. Thank you and enjoy!

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><p>In the midday of Turdas, two young men fought with wooden, makeshift swords. One was normal: a Nord. The other: an AltmerKhajiit hybrid. The half-breed knocked the Nord over and pointed the wooden sword to his chest. "I win… Again." A smirk graced his lips before he helped up his friend.

"Damn, Kalara. Why are you so good?" the Nord laughed as Kalara flicked his long, black braid from his shoulder. The older boy just shrugged and glanced towards the man brushing the horses. Geimund was like the father he had when his own was busy with Thalmor business. Kalara glanced back at his friend, Horm, who nodded and gestured him off. With a smile, the older boy nodded and hurried over to the man. Their relationship was an odd one. Geimund was like a father to Kalara, but what Geimund thought was something much different. Fridrika was his wife, but he grew tired of a woman's sex.

"Hey Geimund, need any help?" The man brushing the palomino looked up while smiling at the owner of the slightly gruff voice. Being half Khajiit made his voice a little rough sounding with the smooth accent of an Altmer; such an odd pairing indeed. Every night he would imagine the noises that he could make with that voice, but it has never been proven to him. Soon… He would prove those noises soon.

"You can wash the one of there. She has gotten dirty from rolling 'round." The Nord jerked his head toward the mare munching on some hay happily. It was true; she was very dirty. The half-breed just released a sigh and moved to grab a bucket of water along with a piece of cloth. By then the mare had figured out what was going to happen and flicked back her ears with a warning nicker. She did not enjoy baths at all, or Kalara. What she did enjoy was nipping and stamping at the poor boy. Oh what Kalara did for septims.

It was a struggle to wash the mare, but he had managed to do it though he was now dirty. Geimund chuckled at the dirty boy and wrapped his arm around his shoulder to lead him from the defeated mare. "Now you need the bath, boy. I can help wash you up in the water near the mill. I'm sure Hjorunn won't mind if we're in the water," he said with an odd grin on his face as he lead the frustrated hybrid from the stables. He confused on why Geimund wanted to help him bathe since he was clearly capable to clean himself. It had been nice years since he was ten which was the last time the Nord bathed with him.

"I, uh, guess…" he mumbled while his tail twitched out of worry. He shouldn't care about bathing with the man he considered his second father, but there was a feeling in his gut that told him something bad was about to happen. The two began down the dirt path to the mill before Geimund talked to Hjorunn. The sawmill owner seemed to have eyed the half-breed in disgust before waving the two off to the water. When they reached the water's edge, the Nord was already removing his clothing while Kalara knelt down to poke at the water. He still couldn't shake the bad feeling from his gut as he began to remove the tunic he wore. The chuckle behind him made him pause and turn his head to the side.

"Why shy, Kalara? We have taken many baths together before so why is this any different," the man said in an odd tone while eyeing the soft skin of the boy's back. He slowly moved in as Kalara was loosening his pants, wrapping his arms around his small waist. A small gasp escaped Kalara's lips along with his body tensing up from the strange touch. He had always been hugged from behind by Geimund before, but this hug was different. This hug was more intimate and lustful which scared the hybrid. The Nord's hands slowly moved to replace the others on his pants.

"Allow me to help you, sweet Kalara," Geimund purred into the trembling Kalara's ear. What was he doing to him? Married men were not supposed to touch other men in such ways. Geimund was turning into Errande who betrayed his own wife. Those rough hands slowly slid down the half-breed's pants before removing his undergarments to expose his nude body. This made Kalara shift away from his arms and leap into the water to be hidden away from his eyes. No, this could not happen. Geimund and Fridrika had sworn in to Mara to be wed so why would Geimund want to betray the Goddess? The thoughts raced through his mind as he sat in the water, eyes never leaving the Nord. He looked a little frustrated when Kalara leaped from his arms, but he shook his head with a smile returning to his friendly face. Now he began to step into the water to be closer to the strange boy.

"Are we getting flustered? I will take very good care of you, Kalara."

He hated the way he said his name. That tone he used with that strange look in his eyes. It reminded him of the way his father spoke to the Bosmer woman. Was he to be Geimund's whore now? "I don't understand. Why are you acting so strange, Geimund?" The words that left Kalara's mouth were nervous and seemed to quiver a little. The only response he received was the Nord pulling him against his hard chest coursed with dark hairs before leaning in to press his lips to his elven ear. The way his warm breath caressed his ear made him shiver in disgust; he did not like any of it at all.

"I want something new, boy. Bedding a woman can get quite…" The man's hands slowly slid over Kalara's hips in a sensual manner. "Boring," he purred against his multiple pierced ear like some Khajiits had on their cat-like ears. Kalara found the whole thing to be vile. It was wrong for a Nordic man, who had sworn his love for his wife to Mara, to lay with another. How dare he even think about cheating on his loving wife with a boy he considered to be a son! His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he felt hands working his braid loose. That caused the half-breed to jump away from the Nord and release a hiss of warning. He didn't mean to hiss, but he couldn't help it.

"Do not touch me. You are a married man!"

"Kalara, lower your voice," Geimund spat in a hushed tone while grabbing Kalara's arm. If someone from the mill heard them then they would both be in trouble with the Imperials. That would not be good for Kalara, for he wanted to be a part of the Imperials. He wanted to take down those rebels and that evil man who led them. Geimund suddenly latched his lips to the hybrid's untouched neck before Kalara screeched and shoved away the Nord. He stumbled out of the water and hopped as he pulled on his pants, not even bothering to pull on his tunic. He ran away while listening to the angry shouts of Geimund.

"You shall pay, half-breed! The Legion will know how much of a whore you are and the truth of your family!"

Once again, he ran from his troubles. That was all he knew to do. Would he run and cry to his father? No, but he had to get home. Geimund's words scared him. Would he really tell the Legion lies? Kalara shook his head after pulling on his tunic and opened the doors into Solitude as he ignored the vulgar shouts of the guards. He was getting good at ignoring people.

He had to act normal; he had to remain calm. Taking in a deep breath, Kalara lifted his head and walked through the capital to get back home. Not many bothered him for being a half-breed anymore, for they got no response like they used to when he was a child. What bothered him was when he was suddenly struck in the face with a tomato. He released a sigh and glared at the group of children giggling before they scattered to different places in the city. Though he was angry, a smile grew on Kalara's lips. Children were what made him happy. There were a few children that liked him which was quite surprising. Their parents usually told them bad stories about the hybrid, but few of them cared. They actually found the half-breed enjoyable. The girls braided his hair and the boys play fought with him. Smiling at his thoughts, Kalara opened his door to his home to find the Bosmer woman with a dagger against her neck and Imperial men surrounding her.

"Welcome home, half-breed." The door was slammed behind the boy before his arms were grabbed. Kalara stared at all the men he had looked up to in disbelief to what was happening. The poor Bosmer woman was sobbing and chanting an apology to the hybrid before a solider slit her throat. Her warm blood splattered over Kalara's face and clothing before he released a scream of fear. Another solider struck him across the face with a sharp 'Quiet!' before the man he looked up to the most yanked back his head by his long hair.

"Whoring yourself to the stable owner and his son? Filling the children's ears with lies? I have heard about you wanting to join us, but you would be the whore, half-breed. The Legion does not need vile creatures like you," General Tullis hissed out before spitting on the already dirty boy. A boy of his age should not cry, but he couldn't help himself. Kalara had looked up to the man, yet to hear such vulgar things come from his mouth was painful. How could he speak of such lies? Why did Geimund lie to him? Just because he wouldn't allow the Nord to fuck him, or put his cock in his mouth? It was disgusting; he felt disgusting. He was a disgrace to his family. Everyone in Solitude would know lies about the Thalmor Wizard's son, but what would become of his father? Kalara never wanted to ruin his father so he had to somehow negotiate with the evil man.

"Do not bring my father into this, sir! Spread the truth about only me and leave my father out of this. He had done nothing wrong!" Kalara cried while looking up at the General with pleading eyes. He was struck across the face once again, this time knocking him to the ground.

"Keep your eyes off of General Tullis!"

The man began to circle the trembling boy while tapping his chin. All Kalara could do was stare at the boots around him and tremble in the men's arms. He was growing impatient though the wait was only for minutes. He wanted an answer quick.

"Your father shall be left alone, but we shall have your head." The words made Kalara jerk up his head with a sharp gasp and tense his body out of fear. They want him dead? But why?! He hadn't done anything wrong. All they heard were lies from Geimund, but they believed him more than the half-breed.

"No! I refus-" Kalara screamed out in agony as an Imperial solider stomped down on his tail and yanked back his head by his wavy hair. The tears leaked from his blue eyes once again and ran down his bloodied cheeks. Harsh pants escaped his lips once he hunched over in pain.

"That was not something you can refuse, half-breed. It will happen. You will die."

The sudden blow over his head caused the boy to fall to the ground now limp from unconsciousness. He was to be taken to Helgen.

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><p>Was that ending rushed? I am sorry. I just didn't know what else to do without dragging it on. If you have not guessed from that ending, the third chapter is the start of the game when the Dovahkiin (In our case Kalara) wakes up on the cart with Ralof, the horse thief, and Ulfric. Hope you'll stay with me for this story.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Oh man! Is that an update? Yes it is! I just wanted to make a disclaimer that there is dialogue from the game that I do not own and all that jazz. This chapter really got to me at some points. Enjoy~

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><p>To most, a slow rocking sensation may feel calming or soothing really. It was, but something was wrong. There was a pain that pounded against his skull, as well as tightness around his wrists. Slowly, his eyes lifted open; they felt heavy and the light blinded his sensitive eyes. Kalara began to look around with fear filling his eyes. He was on a cart with three other men: a Stormcloak, a man he assumed to be a thief, and the last man, he was different than the other. He had clothes a well off man would wear, yet what was most strange about him was, as well as being bound, he was gagged.<p>

"Hey you." The voice snapped the hybrid from his trance of observing the man beside him, causing his eyes to gall upon the man before him. It was the Stormcloak. "You're finally awake."

Kalara furrowed his brow, feeling the blood that had dried on his skin was still there. Right… His fate had been decided. "You were out cold when they brought you onto the cart. It was near the Imperial ambush we and that thief over there walked into," the Nord continued while gesturing to the man beside him. The thief seemed to be quite upset about the situation while he stared at the rope that bound his hands.

"Damn you Stormcloaks," he snapped at the blond Stormcloak with a sharp glare. Kalara couldn't agree more, but what side was he on now? The side he had looked up to before were about to have his head and the other… Well, he did not trust the other side. Their leader was a racist bastard that only cared about becoming the High King. Shouldn't a High King care for all?

The words of the thief broke his thoughts.

"Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy." Though he did not agree, Kalara nodded slowly with his tail twitching anxiously. That caught the attention of the man beside him, and his eyes seemed to glare at the tail. The half-breed could only guess the disgusting thoughts the man had about him.

"If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." Why was his fate to die with thieves and rebels? All because he was a half-breed and how a fatherly figure in his life had tried to him in a sexual manner. Geimund was a liar; he was the one who should be in his place.

"You there." Kalara lifted his head to glance at the dark-haired thief. "You and me-we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

"I'm a whore…" he muttered softly to himself though it seemed like the Stormcloak had heard him, for he interrupted Kalara's sentence.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, horse thief. I'm Ralof," he said with a nod towards the half-breed as a gesture of acknowledgement. That put Kalara off. A rebel was actually kinder than the great men he looked up to so much. Well, who he used to look up to. He went to reply to Ralof, but an Imperial Soldier interrupted him.

"Shut up back there!" the soldier who was driving the carriage shouted, instantly causing Kalara to snap his mouth shut. There was no way he would get into further trouble, but what was worse than being beheaded? His mind was too jumbled up at that moment to even think straight let alone things worse than beheading. After a few short minutes, the silence was finally broken. It was the horse thief.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?" The horse thief gestured towards the gagged man with his bound hands. Kalara assumed he was just some nobleman who worshipped Talos, or stole the money he claimed to be his own. That man did not seem like a big deal, but he was so wrong.

"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

That almost made Kalara tumble out of the carriage as he scooted away from the man he sat beside. He could remember that shout that had almost ripped the High King into small pieces and how it echoed through all of Solitude. The thought made him shudder and his tail twitch out of fear. Everything was real; it was all happening so fast. The two were talking again, but Kalara was too deep in the trance he shared with Ulfric. In his eyes was a strong, powerful look, but there was something hidden behind that powerful gaze. The Ulfric Stormcloak was fearing the end.

"But if they captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?" cried the horse thief with his tone growing more and more panicked. The gates of a small town came into view. They had traveled so far from Solitude, but why? There was a chopping block there, so he could have been beheaded there. Or did they not want to taint their beloved city with half-breed blood?

A small sigh had escaped Kalara as he listened to the two Nords converse about Sovengarde and Rorikstead. What a bore. No Nord would want to speak to him about any Nord nonsense. He was just a lowly half-breed that was considered vile in Skyrim. Sure, there were other half-breeds there, but not like him. Most looked normal due to having one Nord, Imperial, or Redguard parent. Kalara brought his father dishonor; he deserved to die.

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting." Slowly, Kalara lifted his eyes to glance around for the man who had decided his fate. The damn man was impatient about the beheading, for he just wanted to get it over with. Kalara could almost seeing him wanting to smirk at the lives he was about to end. As they passed through the gates, he kept an eye on the man atop a horse with people surrounding him. Wait…

"Look at him," Ralof spat while turning his head to glare at General Tullius with the half-breed. "General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this." His eyes watched the High Elves speak with the man he had grown to hate, scanning until he found the one he was looking for. Errande was studying the prisoners in each cart until he met the pained eyes of his beloved son. Kalara watched his father take a small step and open his mouth as if he had something to say, but he slowly shook his head to tell his father to not do anything about it. He didn't want Errande to suffer for the trouble he has caused. In the end, he would lose everything: his wife, his mistress, and his son. It caused the half-breed great pain when his father broke their last shared gaze to speak with a Thalmor Soldier. He didn't want the wizard to watch his head roll, but it was one of his consequences. General Tullius must have requested Elenwen to bring along Errande even though he would not know why he was need. Tullius just wanted to torture him since Kalara did agree to lose his head for the safety of his father keeping his job and life.

"…Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe," Ralof said with a strange tone, which had broken Kalara from one of his many trances. He had missed the beginning that was about juniper berries and some girl, but he did catch the end. It was strange that he found himself to be more like the Stormcloaks than the Imperials. Hearing all those terrible stories about the rebels had turned him against them when, in reality, he had never even met one. Those Nords were fighting for their home and their rights against the Imperials; they had done nothing wrong. Slowly, his eyes glanced over to the leader of them all, Ulfric Stormcloak. His mind was obviously elsewhere as he stared at the ropes that took away his freedom. He must have felt Kalara's gaze on him, for he lifted his head to glance at the half-breed. They exchange glances once again until a conversation of the townsfolk made him shift his head to glance at the naïve child. Oh, how that child reminded him of himself as a kid. The soldiers were so fascinating to him, almost like heroes, but they were truly monsters.

"Why are we stopping?" Fear laced the voice of the thief while his eyes began to dart around to find some sort of escape.

"Why do you think? End of the line."

The cart jerked to a stop and everyone began to stand with Ralof's voice speaking once again. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting."

They continued to speak, but Kalara blocked it all out as they climbed out of the cart one by one. Soon, they stood there with the final acceptance of their death; all but the horse thief. When they called out his name, he began to shout nonsense and run. That did not end up well, for he still met his fate of death. Kalara was the last standing until his eyes met the Imperial Soldier's eyes.

"You there, step forward." His voiced had hitched as he studied the man with a book and quill in his hands. With a hesitant step, Kalara stepped up and lifted his chin as if to show the confidence he lacked of. He could not be weak during his final seconds; it was time to be strong, for his father was watching.

"Who are you?"

"Kalara…" The voice that let him was not confident at all. It was filled with fear and made him seem more timid than he looked. He mentally cursed himself while keeping his eyes on the Breton before him. Beside him was an Imperial captain. She was eyeing him in disgust; everyone was thinking the same thing.

Kill the half-breed.

"Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list."

Those next words caused him to choke and lose all the confidence he was trying to push out.

"Forget the list, he goes to the block." The woman gave Kalara's shoulder a shove, cutting off the Breton from getting any words of apology out. He did not deserve any apology. He took his place in the line of Stormcloak soldiers and the man who led them all. What was to happen to the war now? Ulfric Stormcloak was to die so the Empire would gain victory. How disgusting.

The man he despised began to speak to Ulfric, but Kalara could not catch any words he spoke. His eyes were down on the boots he wore while the eyes of a Thalmor wizard bore into him. All he could do was apologize in his head to his father, but he wanted to go to him and cry into his robes like he did as a child. He wanted him to hold him and whisper it was alright before telling wonderful stories of the mother he never knew. That was to never happen again. Kalara could not look at Errande, for he didn't want to hurt him any further. At least he would finally get to meet his mother in the end. They could watch over his father together to ensure that he would remain safe until it was his time to join them. A tear had slipped down the cheek covered with dry blood before a distant roar echoed from far off into the distant. Everyone had jerked up their heads in panic and began to search the skies for whatever made that terrifying roar.

"What was that?" questioned the man from before with a hint of fear laced in his voice. That was what was on everybody's mind. Whatever had made that horrific sound was dangerous, and close by.

"It's nothing… Carry on." General Tullius had anxiety in his tone though he hid it with the powerful look on his face. Kalara narrowed his wet eyes at him before settling his eyes to continue watching the skies. Something was off… He could feel it.

A priestess began her little speech with her arms lifted to the sky before a Stormcloak soldier abruptly interrupted her to get the whole thing over with. That said soldier stepped up to the block before the captain shoved him down onto his knees. With his head resting upon the block and facing the executioner, words leaving his lips. The axe was brought down, separating his body and head. Kalara jerked his head away and felt sick from the vile sight. Shouts filled the air from the other Stormcloaks before the woman shouted out.

"Next, the half-breed!" A roar ripped through the air as if it was responding to the Imperial captain. Once again, everyone grew anxious and looked around for the source.

"There it is again. Did you hear it?"

"I said, next prisoner!" The man with the book and quill nodded towards Kalara and gestured towards the bloody block to be the pillow of his death.

"To the block, prisoner, nice and easy." The half-breed swallowed harshly and took one last glance at his father before slowly stepping up to the block. He was shoved down and the stench of blood made him cringe when his neck lay upon it. Slowly, Kalara turned his head to watch the man to bring his death. The axe was brought above his head as he held his breath, awaiting the blackness of the end.

A dark shape flew through the clouds. "What in Oblivion is that?" cried General Tullius. There was a couple more people speaking, but Kalara blocked it all out. He just wanted it over with.

But his eyes grew wide at the terrifying sight. A large beast landed on the tower in his view, causing the ground to shake from impact. The executioner fell to the ground from the shake, saving Kalara's life. A loud roar ripped out of the beast and filled the sky.

"Dragon!" a woman shrieked before the dragon roared again. The shockwave blew everyone back while dark clouds filled the sky. Fire began fall from the sky, sending everyone into frenzy.

Kalara couldn't move due to being paralyzed with fear. A ball of fire struck near his head sending sparks to crash upon the exposed side of his face. A pain scream left his lips while his consciousness began to fade away. It was all growing black; the sound was being drowned out.

It truly was his time to die.

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><p>Oops... Another cliffhanger, but obviously he is going to live. Now that it is summer I can focus on this more. I will try to get the next chapter out sooner if I have the will to do so. I do hope Kalara is growing on you because he has grown onto me. Stay tuned for more.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Congratulations! You have a new update! Once again, there is dialogue from the game, and though it might not be perfect, I still do not own it. Enjoy!

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><p>A sudden sharp movement caused consciousness to slam back into the half-breed. He gasped for air as he was pulled along by his arm by the Stormcloak, Ralof. His steps were stumbling as the ground shook beneath them, chaos all around them. Right now, all that really mattered to Kalara was surviving. That almost seemed impossible due to the burning sensation on the side of his face.<p>

"This way!" The sound was so drowned out that he had trouble making out what he was supposed to do. The burn had blinded him with a closed eye, leaving him with only one eye that had blurred vision. Ralof practically dragged the half unconscious half-breed into a still standing building before sitting him against the wall. He cupped his chin and turned Kalara's head to the side to study the burn.

"Shit… How are you still alive?" That was directed more towards himself, as he studied the face of the slipping male. He knew what he had to do. There was no way he wanted to do it, but this was a matter of life or death. Reluctantly, the Nord removed a healing potion from a pouch at his hip before bringing it to his lips. The tangy, vile liquid filled his mouth and he forced open Kalara's mouth with a pinch to his chin. With one last glance at his Jarl and a pray to the Divines, Ralof pressed their lips together to transfer the potion into his mouth. He had to tip back the limp head and force the liquid into his mouth with his tongue. The sad thing was that he was enjoying that a little too much.

Quickly, the Stormcloak pulled away and went to stand by the wall, pressing his forearm against the stone. The potion took its effect and Kalara jolted awake, coughing into his hand. His eye had opened and returned his vision, but the area still stung. The burn had scarred and settled down around his eye, ruining his boyish face. Black strands of hair had singed around the burn, but it wasn't too drastic. It just made his hair look jagged and messier on that side.

"Thank you, sir… I feared for my life," Kalara admitted before meeting Ralof's eyes. That gaze was quickly broken when the older man moved to speak with his now unbound Jarl.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof's tone was panicked, but he covered it well with his look of a strong will. Kalara knew he had to be strong in front of his leader.

"Legends don't burn down villages." A roar interrupted the man, causing everyone to flinch. "We have to move, now!" The half-breed scrambled to his feet before Ralof grabbed his arm once again.

"Up through the tower! Let's go!" The elder began to tug the young male up the steps, though it was a little difficult for Kalara since his hands were still tied. They began to near the top, but that wall suddenly burst open, sending a few unlucky men flying. Blue eyes widen in fear, as Kalara stared at the frightful sight of the dragon's large head. Slowly, the massive jaws began to open.

"Look out!"

Ralof suddenly grabbed Kalara and held him to his chest, keeping his back towards the stream of fire that erupted from the dragon. One question filled the younger's head. Why was the Stormcloak being so protective of him? He remember he had covered up the words he called himself on the cart, but why? Was it to keep him from embarrassment, or was it just protective instincts?

Shaking his head and with a voice breaking his thoughts, Kalara followed him up the steps to the gaping hole in the side of the building. They stood at the edge, staring off at the burning village.

"You see the inn on the other side?"

His response was a nod.

"Jump through the roof and keep going!"

Wait… What?

Kalara stared up at the Nord with disbelief before shaking his head quickly. There was no way he could make that without breaking something. He wasn't the typically wasn't the strongest man out there…

Sudden hands on his shoulders made him jolt and stare up into the other's determined eyes. "You can do it. Your blood is strong."

The half-breed nodded once and slowly backed up with a deep breath. He bolted off and jumped, keeping his eyes locked on the second floor of the inn.

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><p>Wood met his feet before he collapsed on his hands and knees. He took a few deep breaths before coughing from inhaling smoke. He made it! Kalara rose to his feet and hurried to slip down a hole in the floor, making it to the first floor of the burning inn. He rushed out and noticed the Breton from before. He was trying to get some kid to safety since he was dumb enough to stand out in the open. That made Kalara snort and standoff near the others who were still alive.<p>

Some words were spoken, but he didn't pay attention. His attention was directed towards the dragon that landed behind the poor child. The jet of flames missed the boy by a hair, as the Breton and boy made it to the group.

"Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me and you'll stay that way." Once again, more words were spoken, but he blocked those out. Hearing the name General Tullius made him instantly shut off his ears to avoid hearing anything about him. Who even cared anymore because he sure didn't?

The man, he thought his name was Hadvar, shouted towards him, "Come on!" That had snapped Kalara out of his many trances before jogging after the retreating Imperial soldier.

They weaved through the burning buildings and debris all while trying to avoid being caught by the magnificent beast that soared through the air. There was one time when the dragon landed on a building, slamming its wing down between the Breton and half-breed. Kalara had tumbled back onto the ground from the force, cowering into the debris. Hadvar yanked him back onto his feet once the beast flew around and continued to rush through fighting soldiers.

"Ralof, you damn traitor! Out of my way!" snarled the dark-haired male once they arrived at the keep. The blond Nord had rushed up to them, but a safe distance away. Those two were enemies, after all.

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time." Kalara glanced towards the sky and felt his heart skip a beat when the dragon neared the area they were in. His blood began to boil though his mind panicked with a large amount of fear.

When he looked back, the two men were heading into separate doors. Hadvar had called to him, but Ralof was the one who ran back and grabbed him. The Imperial was already inside, so why did he care who took the half-breed? Kalara obediently followed the Nord into the keep before collapsing to his knees with heavy breathing.

His tired eyes followed the man to a dead body slumped against the stone wall; it was another Stormcloak. He whispered something to the corpse before standing. His eyes did not meet the younger's curious gaze.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it." He paused before finally approaching Kalara, kneeling before him to make sure he had no wounds. "That thing was a dragon, no doubt. Just like the children's stories and legends, the harbingers of the End Times." His voice was soft with a hidden hint of fear. The half-breed's father never spoke of Nordic legends or tales, but the Bosmer housemaid they had did tell him stories of dragons. Now he began to wonder where she had heard those stories.

"We better get moving," he mumbled while removing a dagger from his belt. Ralof cut the binds that held Kalara's wrists before moving back towards the corpse. Kalara began to rub his wrists, rising to his feet. He felt disgusting and dirty; he really needed to wash all that blood off of his skin and out of his hair.

"Ralof… I…"

"What is your name, half-breed?" A bit taken off by that, Kalara narrowed his eyes at the title he gave him before starting to braid his long locks.

"Kalara, now can I thank you?" He was surprised that a playful tone left his lips. He thought he was too shaken up and scared to act a little normal. Ralof just chuckled and handed him the armor he just removed from the corpse. Was he seriously supposed to wear armor that was possibly too big for him?

"You may as well take Gunjar's gear. He won't be needing it anymore." Those words made the young male cringe and slowly peel off the bloody clothing that had clung to his body because of sweat. He could feel the Nord's eyes on him when he stripped away the tunic. A shudder ran up his spine, as he turned his head to the side to glance back at him.

"Could you, um, possibly look away? I feel a little awkward with you staring at me." He watched as Ralof's mouth formed into an 'O' shape before his head turned away. He used his gloved hand to shield his eyes for extra caution.

Kalara sighed in relief before removing his ruined clothing. Since he had no use for them, he laid them over the nearly nude Stormcloak and pulled on the armor he took. It hung loosely from his body, but it would have to work for now. As if noticing the half-breed's discomfort, the Nord walked over and began to tighten the armor. Still, it was a little loose on his skinny, small body.

"It'll work for now," Ralof said before running his thumb over the scar tissue on the younger's cheek. The touch, though it was gentle, made Kalara flinch and turn away his head with his teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek. That burn was disgusting even though he had yet to see it. It had just felt disgusting and foreign on his face, like it didn't belong there and he could just rub it off. That wasn't the case. He was stuck with that burn for the rest of his days and the memories of betraying his father. Speaking of his father, was Errande alright? Did he make it out alive? Kalara prayed to the Divines that his father was safe from any harm and that he may be able to see him once again. He needed to apologize for what he had caused. It was technically like he would be apologizing for being born. Why a Khajiit? Why not some beautiful Altmer?

A sigh left his chapped lips, the cat tail behind twitching anxiously. A sudden cold, heavy object was place in his gloved hands. "Take it. Have you swung a weapon before?"

His blue cat eyes studied the iron axe in his hand before he nodded once to the other. The axe was heavier than a sword, but he wasn't that weak. If he could swing a sword, then he could swing an axe. He took a few steps from Ralof and swung the axe to make sure he could actually swing it without hurting himself. It felt a little awkward, but nothing he could not get used to. Besides, he had all of those spells his father had taught him and that he spent hours upon hours studying. If needed, he would use them to protect him and the Stormcloak.

While his did some little practices, Ralof checked a door and cursed when he found it locked. Footsteps filled his Altmer ears before his eyes peered through another locked door. That one was closer to him and behind it were two Imperials.

"Come on, Soldier. Keep moving!" It was that woman captain from before. A low hiss slipped between his teeth while the Nord crouched down with his weapon drawn. With a motion of his head, Ralof mouthed to him to take cover before his eyes darted back to the door, waiting to attack. Slowly, Kalara crouched down and tightened his grip on the axe in his right hand. _Fight to survive… Defend yourself_, was what he repeated over and over in his head.

The woman spoke again, "Get this door open!" _Prepare yourself… Fight to win._

The lock clicked and the door swung open, letting the two Imperials inside.

Almost instantly, Kalara swung the axe at the Imperial woman. The fight had begun.

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><p>"Are you okay, half-breed?" Kalara was holding his hand over a wound on his right bicep while his left hand held the key he took from the Imperial Captain's belt. The woman had sliced his arm with her sword before he managed to lodge the axe into her neck. Such a gruesome sight it was in there.<p>

"Yeah… I'll be fine. Do you have another potion?" he asked in his raspy, yet smooth Altmer accent. He stopped and knelt over, taking deep breaths to catch his breath. That fight was much harder than the ones he had with Horm back in Solitude. Horm wasn't much of a fighter and, most of the time, Kalara won those fights. That may have made him a bit cocky with his abilities. He battled with a sword then, and now he was doing so with an axe. Axes were heavier than swords.

Ralof pulled a small potion bottle from his pouch and handed it to the young man, awkwardly remembering when he forced the potion down his throat before. Kalara pulled out the cork and downed the potion, gagging from the taste and stinging in his throat. "Ugh, those are disgusting…"

A low chuckle erupted from the Nord before he studied the scar on the other's bicep.

"You're becoming a real man, Kalara. You've got two scars now!" With a roll of his eyes, the half-breed flicked his tail to whip the older man's thigh. That action made the Stormcloak shove him, and then snatch the key from his hand. While he moved to unlock the door, the young male knelt down to take the Imperial sword from the ground beside the Captain. Maybe he could do some dual-wielding now. That was his favorite thing to do when he practiced alone. Dual-wielding when battling with Horm was not really fair, so he never used two wooden swords.

He missed Horm…

He missed his father…

He missed the horses…

He even kind of missed Geimund. He wouldn't even be there if it wasn't for him, so that part of him that missed the older man was very, very small.

"Hey, are you ready?"

Kalara looked up from the sword he was studying before giving Ralof one nod. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Come on, let's get out of here before the dragon brings the whole tower down on our heads," the Nord said before jogging off.

With a shaky breath, Kalara inhaled, and then exhaled to prepare himself for more fighting. Something was urging him on, but he had no clue on what that was. Somewhere in the back of his head was a voice screaming at him to run, but there was another. That voice was overpowering the other saying, "This is your time, Kalara. Take the first step into your new adventure."

He balled his gloved hands into fists and bounded off after Ralof, running to catch up with him.

They needed to fight their way through that place to get to safety. This was the start to Kalara's true adventure.

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><p>Did you like that small bit of RalofKalara going on in there? How about, if people want it, I add a bonus chapter of Ralof and Kalara in Gerdur's home? Since there isn't enough room, those two will have to share a bed. You know what that means, wink wink. Anyways, if you would like that then add a review saying so. If not, I will add that as a little one-shot for the people who do want it.

I would like to say one thing, though. This will not have the full story line going on. Kalara will still go through it and it will be mentioned, but I'm not typing it out. First off, I am lazy and that will take forever. Second, I want to get the the Stormcloak story line to start getting the true pairing of this story in here.

Kalara will do other quests, and those are mentioned, but they will not be fully typed out. What I am going to do is make separate fanfictions with different pairings. Fun fun! More information later!

Thank you and stay tuned~


	5. Chapter 5

Hello! And welcome back to the disgraced Dovahkiin's adventure! I apologize for the delay, but I've been a busy, busy bee! Ralof/Kalara was requested, so you'll get a little snippet of that. And to the person who asked what Kalara looked like, feral Altmer or human-looking Khajiit, that is now answered in this chapter. Enjoy!

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><p>Two figures emerged from the cave: a Nord and a half-breed. The said half-breed stretched his arms above his head, and then winced from the harsh sun hitting his eyes. They had yet to adjust from the dark to the bright light from the outside world.<p>

He began to walk forward until a large form slammed against him and held him behind a rock in a crouched position.

"Wait!" Ralof was the one who shouted and who held Kalara down. The dragon flew over their heads with a roar before disappearing off into the distance. Both of them released a breath of relief before the Nord released the other from his tight grip. Kalara straightened up and dusted off the armor he was borrowing.

"There he goes. Looks like he's gone for good this time," he said causing the half-breed to give him a side glance. Just because he was flying away doesn't mean he could return and cause even more chaos. He noticed Ralof hurrying down the road, so he took it as a sign to follow him, like a lost puppy.

"This place will be swarming with Imperials soon enough. We better clear out of here." A shudder ran through Kalara, for he wanted to avoid them at all costs. Who knows what they would do if they were to catch a Stormcloak and a half-breed dressed as a Stormcloak running from a burning village. It would be best for them to run now and check for survivors later.

"My sister, Gerdur, runs the mill in Riverwood, just up the road. I'm sure she'd help you out," Ralof said while walking a bit ahead of Kalara. He didn't even glance back at him. "It's probably best if we split up. Good luck, I wouldn't have made it—"

Ralof stumbled when he felt a small form slam into him and grasp onto his arm tightly. He stared at the half-breed clinging to him before chuckling.

"I don't know where I am. I lived in Solitude and I know we are nowhere near there. Please, Ralof, don't make me find my own way there," pleaded the half-breed, his cheeks flushed with shame. He never felt so helpless before in his life. Right now, he was begging a Stormcloak to help him.

Ralof just stared at the younger male before sighing out in defeat. "Alright, you may come with me. I wouldn't trust you alone in the wilderness anyways." That made a frown form on Kalara's lips and he straightened up, following after the laughing Nord.

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><p>Upon arriving in Riverwood, Ralof began to lead the him further into the village. "Looks like nobody here knows what's happened yet. Come on. Gerdur's probably working in her lumber mill." He turned to cross over a bridge, but Kalara paused to listen to an elderly woman go on about a dragon to her son. Of course, the son found his mother to be mad, but it was all true. A sigh left the half-breed's lips before he began to follow the Stormcloak again. The two of them moved around the large mill, as Kalara began to survey the area. Strange, he had never seen a mill right in the middle of a village. Well, he did use to live in Skyrim's capital city and Riverwood was just a small village outside of Whiterun. A shudder rushed through him, making his tail twitch and tense to stick straight. He didn't want to remember what happened at the mill near his home. That was the whole reason why he was in this mess!<p>

Passing a strange wood elf complaining about some Sven guy, Kalara shrugged and managed to stay close behind Ralof.

"Gerdur." Ralof moved further ahead of Kalara to approach a blonde Nord woman standing near a wooden fence. They did look sort of similar according to his observations. Standing back to watch the two talk, Kalara shifted on either foot in an awkward manner. He didn't belong there, besides, he didn't want to intrude in some family meeting. That was until he was brought up in the conversation.

"Are you hurt? What's happened? And who's this? One of your comrades?" The Nord woman, Gerdur, eyed Kalara, but not in disgust. It was more of curiosity than anything else. Kalara was quite thankful to not be eyed like a frostbite spider, or even a skeever.

"Not a comrade yet, but a friend." That word made the half-breed tense and turn his head to look at Ralof. Friend? Were they really friends? The only friends he had ever had were Horm and… The man he used to believe was his true father. Kalara was too busy lost in his thoughts until Ralof spoke again, "I owe him my life, in fact"

"Is there somewhere we can talk? There's no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials…" The Nord continued on although the half-breed stared at him with a look of shock on his scarred face. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Ralof was the one who pulled him from the chopping block and guided him through the keep in Helgen. Kalara just assisted him with killing their way through there.

The two siblings began to walk, Gerdur calling after her husband. All of them met at a tree stump, discussing what had to be done. Eventually, they came to the conclusion that Kalara was to head to Whiterun to inform the Jarl of the dragon attack and that Riverwood needed guards for more protection. It would be his first adventure alone, but Gerdur was kind enough to allow him a bed to stay in for the night and supplies for his journey to Whiterun. He would leave at dawn of the next day.

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><p>Since there was still time in the day, Kalara watched Ralof and his nephew, Frodnar, play fight. He remembered the child talking to him about wanting to become a Stormcloak like his uncle. It reminded the half-breed of his young days of when he wanted to become an Imperial soldier, but he wished for the best for the young boy. Perhaps his life will end up on a better track than Kalara's.<p>

A smile grew on his lips at the sight of a friendly interaction between Ralof and Frodnar. It was Kalara's dream as a child to be treated in such a way. Thoughts of Ralof being a nice father filled his mind, making the smile grow even wider. He shall pray to the Divines for Ralof's life to be long and well.

"What's on your mind? You seem to be more chipper than before." Kalara's thoughts broke at the interruption of the Nord. His eyes traveled over to study the man sitting beside him before he chuckled softly.

"I was just thinking while watching the two of you. Frodnar has a wonderful family to support him," he said in a quiet tone, reaching over to place a hand on Ralof's bicep. The Nord grinned in response before leaning back with a soft sighing, studying the setting sun. It was quite the sight; Skyrim always had the nicest skies.

"He's a good kid. I don't know much about you, so tell me about your family." The words made Kalara cringe and turn his head away, dropping his hand to his own lap. That was probably one of the last things he wanted to talk about. His family wasn't the best thing in the world. It was very broken and almost sad. Why should he bore Ralof with the sad tale?

He decided to tell him.

"You must know what I am, right?" Ralof nodded his head.

"You are Khajiit and… Altmer?"

Kalara gave a slow nod and continued on, "You see, my parents were forbidden lovers. My mother was a Khajiit thief with fur as black as night. Obviously, I got my hair color and Khajiit features from her." Ralof nodded again and made note of each feature. He looked like a feral Altmer. A tail jutted out right above his backside, his eyes were like a cat's, nails sharp as claws, small fangs appearing when he spoke or smiled, but one thing made him wonder… Did he have a rough tongue like a cat? Kalara's words broke his thoughts.

"My father is… An higher status Altmer." He did not want to give away his father was a Thalmor wizard. He was positive that could upset the Nord.

Ralof began to take note of his Altmer features. His skin was of that pale golden hue, his cheekbones very defined well, his ears were prominently pointed (yet pierced all the way up to have that Khajiit feel to them), and he was very slender like most. His height was on the shorter side, around 5'9, due to his Khajiit agility. Ralof could see why many people were negative towards him.

"For your father, you said is, but for your mother…"

"She was executed for being a thief and with my father. They were planning on moving here to Skyrim to marry, but they caught her before so. I was only a babe…" The hand that was placed on his head made Kalara jump in surprise and look over at the man again. He was still looking up at the darkening sky, features soft and thoughtful. It made the world almost seem peaceful for a split second. Fingers began to stroke his dirty locks, almost making a purr escape his throat. Now that was relaxing…

"You don't have to share anymore. I've heard enough," Ralof said softly, moving to face the half-breed. Kalara met his blue eyes with his own, tail twitching anxiously. His heart was beating so loudly that he feared the Nord could hear it. Ralof's eyes scanned the area for Frodnar, or anyone that could interrupt them, before leaning in slowly. All Kalara could do was remain frozen and stare at the older male with wide eyes until their lips brushed together. A hand rested on the back of his neck while the other on his cheek, thumb brushing over his heated cheekbone. Ralof was kissing him. They were kissing out in the open. They were kissing!

Unsure as to where to put his hands, Kalara just pressed them to the Nord's chest while kissing him back hesitantly. Was it really okay for them to do such a thing out in the open? Ralof was the one who broke the innocent kiss to press their foreheads together. Kalara's face was red and dumbfounded, unsure as to why that even happened.

"You seem surprised. Did you not enjoy it?" There was a playful hint to Ralof's voice which was followed by a soft chuckle. The chuckle only grew when Kalara sputtered and shook his head no.

"It just caught me off guard… I didn't know you…"

Ralof held up the hand that was on the back of his neck to silence him.

"Kalara, just relax. You overthink things too often," he said softly before leaning in to whisper against his lips. "Just let yourself go for our moment together. This may be our last."

Those words made his heart sink before he responded by wrapping his arms around the Nord's neck. He was right. Kalara was going to leave at dawn and who knows if they'll ever see each other again. It was best for the two of them to enjoy each other's company as long as they could.

They sat there for a while, kissing and touching, mostly Ralof touching the shy Kalara, before a dog barking broke them apart. Kalara stood to adjust his disheveled armor while Ralof smirked and drew his thumb over his own moistened lips.

"So you really do have a rough tongue. Interesting…" Ralof teased Kalara before leaning down to kiss his temple while stroking his even messier hair. The flustered Kalara just grumbled and licked over his own lips. Frodnar and his dog, Stump, came running up to instantly rush to Uncle Ralof.

"Uncle Ralof! Can you teach me to fight tomorrow too?" Ralof chuckled and nodded sending the boy inside. Kalara just shook his head and smiled as well, remembering when he asked his father for his first sword. He practiced with that thing everyday, though his father wanted him to learn spells instead. He had taken spell lessons from his father as well all while teaching himself the way of the sword. Eventually, he was able to teach himself to dual wield.

"Come now, it's time for you to rest up. You have a big day tomorrow." The Stormcloak placed a hand on Kalara's back, leading him inside the house.

* * *

><p>His feet were so sore from walking all the way there to Riverwood. Kalara sat on the bed with his boots and armor off, hair loose from its braid. He was massaging his sore, tired feet while Ralof sat beside him. He took a gulp of his mead and nudged the pained half-breed.<p>

"Come on, you baby. It isn't that bad," he teased before holding up his hands when Kalara hissed and shot him the evil eyes. It wasn't like he did that kind of stuff all the time. He used to help out at a stable and pretend fight, not do any of that. Everything was so new to him, but it was an exciting change. His life was taking an interesting turn.

Ralof set aside his empty bottle and laid back on the bed with his hands behind his head. Both of them wore the items of clothing to be worn beneath armor so the chainmail won't rub painfully over their skin. It looked normal on the Nord, but a little different on the half-breed.

"Mm, a belly full of mead makes any man feel better," Ralof hummed out, moving to rub one hand over his belly. With a snort, Kalara shook his head and crossed his legs beneath his body. Not every man liked mead… His father raised him to enjoy fine wines, which was what he preferred. Just add that to his list of being an outcast.

Noticing the quiet half-breed, Ralof sat up and began to brush his fingers through his long, inky locks. There were many knots from dried blood and dirt, so he was trying to be as careful as he could. Occasionally, Kalara would wince and jerk his tail in annoyance. He really didn't like to have his hair touched due to having a sensitive scalp. Ralof just chuckled and gently braided it back up again to make sure it wouldn't get worse while they slept. Kalara was secretly thankful for that, but he wasn't going to admit it out loud.

The night went on and Kalara slept curled up into Ralof's side, enjoying the last bit of comfort from the Nord. When dawn came, he was the first up. He had to carefully maneuver out of the Nord's arms and over his body to get out of bed. He pulled on the Stormcloak armor and fur boots before turning to look at the sleep Ralof. He smiled slightly and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his head.

"We'll meet again, my friend."

Kalara quietly left the kind Nords' house and decided to stop in at the Riverwood trader to gather any supplies for his short trip. He got what he needed, but didn't leave without receiving a task from the shop owner. Retrieve the golden claw from Bleak Falls Barrow? Perhaps, it'd be a nice learning experience for him.

The woman, Camilla, showed him the way to the bridge before heading back to the shop. With a deep breath, Kalara crossed the bridge and stood at the fork. Should he take the mountain path to stop at Bleak Falls Barrow, or should he take a right to head straight towards Whiterun?

He decided on the mountain path, and thus began a bigger journey in the half-breed's new life.

* * *

><p>Did you enjoy it? I sure enjoyed writing this chapter because it was more of a filler chapter to sort of get to know Kalara.<p>

I already sort of have a plan for the next chapter, so I'll try to get on that right away. It'll include Kalara killing his first dragon and learning he is the Dovahkiin, wink wink.

Don't worry, Ralof and Kalara will meet again, but this isn't about their relationship. Kalara is destined to be with that bastard, Ulfric.


End file.
